


Machiavellian

by Farasha Silversand (Farasha)



Category: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler)
Genre: Character Study, Demons, Gen, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha%20Silversand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian has plans for the young master.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Machiavellian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/gifts).



"And a letter for you, Young Master," Sebastian said, slipping the letter and its wax seal under the teapot before he retired to his place, standing just behind the chair.

Ciel's lips compressed slightly when he saw it, tilting his head at the letter. Sebastian watched him school his face to impassivity – always fascinating, how someone so young could have such incredible control over themselves. Sebastian had no illusions; he knew that Ciel's perfect containment of his emotions only lasted long enough for someone to press just the right trigger, but Sebastian had seen demons far older than Ciel do far worse.

The young earl's eye scanned over the paper, tapping his finger on the table, his signet ring clicking against the wood. He didn't like it, then, and Sebastian felt a soft curl of anticipation. If Ciel didn't like the mission, it usually turned out badly for whoever got in his way.

"Someone has kidnapped the Crown Prince William of Prussia," Ciel said.

"The Queen is sending you to Prussia to investigate?"

"The Queen is sending me to Prussia to _look over_ things. She doesn't want me conducting the investigation, she just wants me to _watch._"

"Crown Prince William is the Queen's grandson, no doubt she's concerned about him," Sebastian murmured, watching Ciel's jerky movements with a permanently amused smile on his face. Humans might not see it, but to Sebastian the earl was practically screaming his displeasure at his latest assignment. The letter was stuffed unceremoniously back into its envelope and Ciel left a half-drunk cup of tea on the table as he pushed back, muttering.

"Have my things ready for departure in two hours," he ordered, and Sebastian felt the tug of the contract in his bones, a sharp reminder of what he had sworn and how thoroughly Ciel held his leash. It brought with it the familiar sense of slow rage at being so contained, at being put to the yoke like a common animal.

No matter. The day would come when Ciel made his final, fatal misstep, the one even Sebastian couldn't rescue him from. When that day came... Sebastian blinked slowly, allowing the thought to spin out in his mind as he moved up the stairs to the bedchamber.

Ciel's scent was everywhere in this house, especially in his bedchamber. Sebastian's hands went through the busy motions of folding and packing neatly, keeping a mental inventory as he worked, calculating how long it would take to find the child and how long it would take for Ciel to get utterly fed up with the proceedings. A month at most on the former; if there wasn't a ransom offer or a body by then, they were never finding the prince. A week at most on the latter; Ciel hated giving up control to anyone, and hated being on the perimeter of an investigation even more.

All of this took place in the small corner of Sebastian's brain that was designated for _human_ thoughts, for maintaining his cover and carrying out the requirements of his contract. The rest of his mind focused on plans for the future – Ciel's future.

Sebastian was not gifted with the future. There were some demons to whom foresight came as naturally as breathing, who constantly lived in a state of being that was one step ahead of everyone else, but Sebastian had never developed that particular talent. So perhaps it had been unwise to submit to a contract with such a strong and young soul as Ciel, but he had been certain the boy would never survive the trauma Sebastian rescued him from. That the horrors of what had been done to him and around him, the horror of what _he_ had done to combat it, would catch up with him sooner rather than later and the young earl would be dead of his own hand within a very short time.

Contrary to all of Sebastian's limited plans – there was only so much one could do with a suicide soul, miserable blackened things – Ciel had survived. Had not only survived but had come to reclaim his title and his fortune with Sebastian at his back as if no other alternative was possible, as if he had not a single doubt in his own power and that of his new demon servant.

_That_ had been infinitely more fascinating than the small, tortured soul that had screamed out in desperation and agony for someone with the power to hurt his tormenters. Ciel's fear, his pain had been delicious to savor in the small time when he had lingered as a sacrifice between the bounds of Earth and Hell, but his arrogance, his pride drew Sebastian like a moth to a flame.

In Hell only the strongest, the most cunning, the cleverest demons survived to grow into their power. Sebastian had survived a great deal longer than many others his age simply by virtue of his unique talent to _blend,_ to step into a place and immediately seem like he belonged there, no questions asked. He had orchestrated the rise and fall of armies simply by being the right – or wrong – lieutenant to trust. He had brought kings to power and cast them down by impersonating the ne'er-do-well assistant who was somehow more indispensable than he was incompetent. And once he had done what he came to do, had glutted himself on the power of the fallen and the souls of those unwise enough to underestimate him, he vanished like smoke.

Sebastian's hands paused in their work as a thought he had contemplated before but had always dismissed came whispering into the back of his mind again.

Ciel had provided him with ample sustenance on Earth; the boy had many enemies for one so small, most of them enemies of his father who had become his only by inheritance, and some of them legitimately hated Ciel. Many had tried to kill him. All had failed, their souls devoured by Sebastian even has he killed them with a wickedly amused smile on his face, Ciel watching in equal parts disgust and satisfaction. The young earl had shied away from the violence he ordered at first, but Sebastian knew he was a beautiful thing to watch when he killed, all grace and terror. More than once, Sebastian had caught Ciel watching him murder with a fixed expression of fascination – and fear.

The fear was as delicious as it always was, of course, but it was the fascination that caused this thought to spin its way through Sebastian's mind more and more often as the earl grew older. In all his long centuries, he had never before met a human that should have been born a demon. Ciel, though... most humans had petty evils, born of petty desires, easily thwarted – and when those petty evils were thwarted the humans showed their age in their petty tantrums. For one so young, Ciel had remarkably few tantrums. And Ciel's evils were those of necessity, of duty. Ciel knew his soul was a dark, corrupt thing and willingly shouldered more corruption, staring into the abyss until it stared back because he had no other choice. He was loyal to his comrades only as far as they were useful to him. He used people as pawns in his delightfully complicated game of chess, discarding them as if they themselves were mere wood and glass, and Sebastian could smell no remorse on him when he did so.

All in all he was a delightfully amoral little thing, and he was fitting into Sebastian's life as neatly as if it had been planned. When Ciel died, when Sebastian fulfilled the contract and took his soul, Ciel would surely become one of the rare and precious few human souls who shed their mortal constraints and became fledgling demons – young and indomitable, headstrong, prone to getting themselves killed by less patient, more experienced members of their kind... unless...

Ciel could become a prince of Hell, assuredly. That was the thought that whispered through Sebastian's mind at night, the thought he ruthlessly suppressed, because it had never been done. How could something that had once been as simple and short-lived as a human even begin to comprehend the politics of Hell, where princes reigned for centuries and plans to seize one of the thrones spanned millennia? Unless...

Unless there was someone like _him,_ someone to play the advisor, someone to put Ciel in power and keep him there. His nature balked at it – why give the throne to another, to a _human_ when he could simply take it for himself? He was powerful enough. He was clever enough. He was...

He was too clever. Sebastian smiled, shutting the trunk with a snap. As crude as it was to compare the humans with demons at all, the Crown Prince's kidnapping was case in point. Those who sat on the thrones were targets. Sebastian was too wary to make himself a target.

The whispering thought had grown into a buzz, and the buzz into a plan, sketched out in his mind, pieces slotting into place as he mentally reviewed his own consequence, the souls in his service that he had not yet devoured, the lesser demons he had bound through blood and magic. Better not to count on any of _that._ The years he had spent on Earth were a blink of the eye, but even the slowest demon was bound to notice when a minor earl didn't return to his holdings for years. Even the weakest demon would take the opportunity to test its contract with him to the breaking point. Even the stupidest would take advantage of the souls wandering his holdings and help themselves to a delicacy.

But then, Sebastian thought as a crash sounded from downstairs and a human voice began yelling his name with far more volume than any human voice should have been able to, it would not be the first time he had made everything work for him with limited resources and unreliable servants.

Ciel would be the lynchpin of his greatest con. It would take centuries. It would shake the foundations of Hell's politics. His name would be whispered in every corner of the inferno while Sebastian's went unknown. And when the time came for Ciel's throne to fall, Sebastian would be there to claim the sweetest prize – Ciel, a demon prince bound to serve _him_ for the remainder of eternity.

Mere human souls paled in comparison to that.


End file.
